


Cyrodiil's Villains, Skyrim's Heroes

by Potato_Being



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Canon Divergence, Cyrodiil, F/F, F/M, Great War, Imperials, M/M, Necromancy, Stormcloaks, Thalmor, Timeline convergence, Vampirism, the dragonborn is a creep, vampire dragonborn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-21 19:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3703425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potato_Being/pseuds/Potato_Being
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Esil is bringing the fight to Cyrodiil. Laria is dragging Meren and Erandur to the Imperial City to rob it. Timelines converge, and the three Dragonborn have to work together in order to drive the Thalmor from the Heartland.</p><p>*The pairings involve three different Dragonborn with three different partners*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically a crossover between Sightless and two of the series, Silence and Awakening (which take place in the same world). I will be doing my best to make it accessible to people who haven't read any of the other fics.

As the sun began to set, Meren was heading back to his house. He stopped as the familiar shape of a Dunmer woman, flanked by her follower walked towards him.

"What do you want?" The Altmer asked, nervous. Laria's face was impassive.

" _Have you ever considered returning to Cyrodiil?_ " Meren paused, confused. " _There is a palace full of treasure._ "

"You want to break into the Imperial Palace." She nodded, her mouth twisting into a smile. "You know how heavily guarded the place is, right?"

" _Of course. I tried before._ " She replied shortly. Meren slowly nodded.

"Do you want me to pack up and go now? Because I'd need to dump some stuff and grab my potions." She nodded sharply, and he ducked past her, disappearing into his small house.

 

"Papa! Did you have a good day?" Sophie leapt into Meren's arms, and he caught her, swinging her up above his head.

"I've had worse." The Altmer said, setting her down. "Is Teldryn here?" Sophie nodded, pointing upstairs. She went back to sweeping the floor, edging closer to the stairs in hopes that she'd year their conversation.

"What the hell are you thinking?" The loft exploded into noise as Teldryn stormed down the narrow stairs. "You are not following that… _thing_ into Cyrodiil! She'll stab you and leave you for dead when you're no longer useful, you know that!" He moved to block Meren's exit, reaching for the taller man's pack.

"Teldryn, I know what she is. But it's more dangerous to turn her down than it is to go along with her schemes."

"You have two weeks. If you don't come back before then, I'm going after you."

"No, if you go then who'd take care of Sophie?"

"Lydia lives here too. She's taken care of you, she's taken care of Sophie." Teldryn said harshly.

"Where are you going, Papa?" Sophie asked, setting her broom aside.

"I'm going to Cyrodiil. Hopefully for money." Meren said gently.

"That's the capitol of the Empire, right? Are you going to the palace there?" Sophie grinned.

"Actually, yes. I am."

"How long will you be gone?" The girl asked.

"About a week."

"Don't go yet, I need to give you something!" Sophie darted into her bedroom, and returned with her doll. "She'll keep you safe." Meren took the small toy in his hand, and slid it carefully into his hip satchel.

"I'll take care of her." Meren said, and turned to Teldryn. "And I'll be back soon." The Dunmer stepped aside, and Meren walked through the door, out into the dark.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The trip was nearly silent, Laria taking the lead on a skeletal horse, Meren and Erandur following behind on normal horses Laria had apparently bought a few months ago.

As they approached the now-open border, Laria paused, apparently listening for something.

"What is it?" Erandur asked.

" _Is there anyone nearby?_ " She asked.

"No." Her follower replied.

" _Interesting._ " She said, and spurred the horse into a lazy walk. Meren turned, looking at the high cliff face, as something glowing appeared in the corner of his eye. He leaned over to the priest.

"I heard footsteps." He whispered.

"I didn't." Erandur said. "Perhaps there are ghosts."

 

\--

 

The sound of many footsteps woke Laria up from where they were camped in the Jerall Mountains. She looked around for the source, trying to force her eyes to pick up any small detail, although in the darkness they were useless. She settled for listening, working to count how many people there were. She counted five, and the clanking of metal signalled soldiers. _Two-handed weapons._ She thought. _Heavy armour._ As the footsteps faded she turned over and went back to sleep.

 

\--

 

They were in sight of the Imperial City by noon. Meren had the hood of his cloak pulled low over his eyes, in an attempt to block the sun.

"It's beautiful." Erandur said quietly. Laria shrugged, urging her horse on towards the walls.

She led them to the Waterfront, where they left the horses, wading across the bay into the slums.

" _We wait until dark, and then head into the city._ " She said quickly.

 

\--

 

There were soldiers everywhere. It was expected, of course, but it made climbing up onto the wall difficult. They'd left Erandur on the ground to keep an eye out, and the two were balanced precariously on a narrow ledge. Laria crouched next to one of the tall windows, working to open it.

"Does it even have hinges?" Meren asked.

" _It did last time I was here._ " She replied. With a soft click she pulled the window open, and slipped inside, dropping down onto the rich rug. Meren followed, landing a bit louder than her. She motioned for him to follow, heading up towards the Emperor's chambers.

"Where are the guards?" Meren whispered.

" _Emperor's dead. Best guess is they're a few floors down guarding the council._ " The elaborate doors were opened, and the two went in.

"This is…" Meren breathed.

" _Plenty of loot._ " Laria said shortly, opening up the pouches on her belt and stuffing gold and jewels inside. She froze as she saw the books, and quickly darted over to them, pulling the valuable tomes from the shelves and putting them carefully in her bag.

"Do you want any of the jewellery?" Laria shook her head, and Meren pocketed diamond necklaces and gold rings, all the while keeping an eye on the door.

" _Ready._ " Laria said, and Meren nodded, as he grabbed the last of the rings in a pot. The two quickly slipped back out, Laria making sure she locked the door behind them, and they rushed back to the window.

"I hear footsteps." Meren breathed as they approached their exit. Laria nodded, watching the hallway as two pairs of boots approached. Meren scrambled up the wall, pulling himself out the window, and Laria followed gracefully, pulling the window shut as two Penitus Oculatus agents passed by.

" _Don't talk. Get to the ground. Run._ " Laria hissed, dropping off the ledge and landing silently on the ground. Meren followed carefully, sliding down the smooth wall as the Dunmer woman grabbed Erandur's arm, pulling him towards the gates the three had entered through.

The streets of the Market Plaza were deserted and foggy. Laria swept through, leading the other two elves towards the gates out of the city. As Laria pushed open the gates, motioning for her companions to exit, the temple bell began ringing, signalling midnight.

 

\--

 

As the three ran from the city towards their camp, the fog had thickened into a blank white haze that it was nearly impossible to see through.

"Where's the camp?" Meren asked.

"It should be near here." Erandur replied as Laria took off in another direction, listening for the horses. She froze as a distant nicker caught her attention, and without a word she charged towards the sound. As she neared the noise, there were footsteps headed towards her, and someone slammed into her. The two fell over, landing on hard, dry dirt.

" _Who are you?_ " Laria snarled. The small dark elf rolled off of her, feeling around on the ground for her bow.

"Sorry. I didn't see you." The girl said, standing up and offering a hand. Laria ignored it, standing quickly, checking to make sure her pockets hadn't opened up and that her weapons were in their proper places. Finally, she looked down at the other elf, working to make out her features. The girl had light purple skin and wild black hair, and dead white eyes worked to meet hers.

"You're blind, too?" The smaller elf asked.

" _What do you think? Who are you, elf?_ " Laria hissed, her patience wearing thin.

"Name's Esil." She grinned, hanging her bow on her back.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Meren and Erandur followed the bright, loud voice to find a small elf talking with Laria.

" _Where's the camp?_ " Laria asked.

"No idea." Erandur told her, and she frowned.

"I have a camp nearby. Follow me?" Esil offered.

"Lead the way." Meren said quickly, before Laria could turn the girl down. Esil nodded, and led the way towards an old fort, where a campfire blazed and a Nord man in steel armour, an Altmer in worn Thalmor robes, a Nord wearing a bear skin and an Imperial in yellow mage robes were gathered.

"--Troops will be here within a day, until then we stay out of sight. Esil, you're back!" A Nord man looked up at the four as they approached, and Laria immediately bared her teeth, practically spitting.

" _How are you alive?_ " She snarled, her hands going to her weapons.

"What?" Esil asked, nervous.

"Laria, what's wrong?" Erandur asked.

" _Meren, you know his face._ " Laria muttered. Meren glanced at the man, recognising the Stormcloak leader.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, yeah."

" _I killed him._ " Laria said softly. " _I cut off his head and stuck it on a pike._ "

"Laria, they're asking you a question." Erandur said quickly. The Dunmer woman snapped her head around, facing the five. _Two Nords, an Imperial, an Altmer and the Dunmer._ Laria thought, sizing them up.

"Why would he be dead?" Esil asked.

" _Because I killed him._ " Laria snarled.

"There have never been Dunmer assassins, I would know. Altmer, some Nord, a Kahjiit, but no Dunmer." Esil said, looking more and more nervous.

" _I've never seen you before, girl._ " Laria hissed. " _Who are you?_ "

"I told you already, my name's Esil."

" _There were no dark elves in the Stormcloak ranks._ " Laria said, snapping her head around to stare at Meren.

"You never told me your name, though. Who're you?"

" _Laria. Dragonborn._ " Laria said proudly.

"You're lying." Esil said flatly.

" _How?_ "

"I'm the only Dragonborn." Esil told her.

"Well then that could be an issue, because I'm Dragonborn as well." Meren said. Esil shook her head, darting back towards the Nords, and talking with them quickly.

"Esil slew Alduin. And Miraak." The Imperial said.

"I killed Miraak. And Laria killed Alduin." Meren told him. Ulfric began to say something else, but was stopped by the drawing of swords as a small group of Thalmor appeared in the fog. The eight quickly drew their weapons, watching the elves.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, you are under arrest for treason! Surrender now or--" A dragon bone arrow pierced the man's throat and he fell to the ground with a gurgle as Laria drew another arrow noncommittally. The remaining nine soldiers barely hesitated, four charging forward while the remaining five hung back, drawing bows or prepping spells. 

Laria vanished from sight, leaving Meren and Erandur to block spells and fling firebolts, respectively. Ulfric brought up his axe in defence as a broad, heavily-armoured woman swung a warhammer almost half her height at his head.

"This isn't going to work! Where's Laria?" Erandur said, drawing his mace.

"She's gone." Meren replied, glancing around.

"She'd better turn up soon. I don't think she'd like to cart our corpses back home."

Esil drew back a Daedric arrow carelessly, letting it fly into an elven archer's face. She didn't hesitate, moving on quickly to her next target, as a dragon bone arrow whizzed by, imbedding itself into an axe-wielding elf's neck. Laria appeared beside her companions, annoyed.

" _This is taking too long._ " She said.

"And what would you suggest? There's four of them." Erandur told her. She hissed, and strode forward towards the attackers, linking up her shot. She took in a breath, gripping her bow tightly.

" **Fus Ro Dah**!" The Shout exploded from her lips, slamming into the remaining elves and sending them flying. She could hear the breaking of bones and the separating of limbs as they hit the ground, and she smirked, proud of herself. The five Stormcloaks looked at her slowly.

 _"They say Ulfric Stormcloak Shouted Torygg apart. He denies this. I, however, am able to rend my enemies apart._ " Laria said, surprising both Meren and Erandur, as those were the longest sentences she had spoken for a while. She whipped around to face the small Dunmer. " _Do you still doubt my being Dragonborn?_ " The threat was obvious in her tone.

"No." Esil said quietly, moving towards the Imperial.

"How can there be three Dragonborn in one place?" Ulfric accused, breaking the nervous silence. The warriors put their weapons away slowly, still watching each other suspiciously.

"Laria, for the love of Akatosh, you better not have--" Meren started as Laria slowly dug around in her bag. She pulled out an Elder Scroll. "Why do you still have that?"

" _The College didn't offer a good price for it._ " Laria explained, holding the Scroll carelessly.

"So you brought it with you." Meren glared at the impassive elf. She shrugged and slid it back into her bag.

"There was something called the… the Dragon Break, centuries ago. Times got messed up." The Imperial said, watching Laria. "Esil used an Elder Scroll several months ago, and you have one on you right now. It stands to reason that the Scrolls caused timelines to converge… which is why there are three Dragonborn in the same place."

"We're here to drive the Thalmor out. We've sent envoys to Hammerfell, Morrowind, Black Marsh and Valenwood, and the responses should be here soon. And by here, I mean couriers will be headed for Windhelm, where only the most trusted of officers will read them, and send word to us at a dead drop." Esil said cheerfully.

"Dead drops are easy to change. False information is simple to plant." Meren said quietly.

"We have five of them." Esil told him defensively.

"Why are you saying this? We can't trust them!" The Altmer said harshly.

"They're Dragonborn. Why would they be working with the Thalmor?"

" _If I had orders to kill you, you would all be dead by now._ " Laria muttered, reaching for her hip flask and taking a drink.

"That won't help." Meren whispered quickly.

"I'm the Dragonborn, and I trust these Dragonborn, Ulfric." Esil said carefully, staring at the ground near the Nord man's feet. "So, I'm going to ask you three a question: Since we're all here, which may be part of the Divines' plan, will you help us? Soldiers will arrive in camps soon, but we'll only have about fifteen people here."

" _I have duties in Skyrim._ " Laria said bluntly, hanging her bow on her back.

"Laria, I've spent enough time serving the Divines to know when they're planning something. Dragonborn, like Elder Scrolls, appear for a reason. So if they're here, if our timelines have converged, that means there's something that will take three Dragonborn to fix." Erandur said carefully. "You can't go back right now, anyway. Who know's what's happening in the other countries."

" _We will join your war, until our worlds realign._ " Laria said sharply. Erandur visibly relaxed.

"All right-- my name's Esil." The small Dunmer said brightly. "The Altmer is Ondolemar, the Imperial is Marcurio." She gestured to the robed men, her gaze hovering on the Imperial.

"I am Galmar Stone-Fist." The bear-clad man stared the three outsiders down.

"My name is Meren Litdur." Meren said softly.

"I am Erandur, priest of Mara."

" _Laria Shadow-Born._ " Laria said noncommittally.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with vampirism, addiction, and features graphic depictions of violence and injuries. Please be warned.

At dawn, a small number of soldiers trickled in, quietly meeting with the Stormcloaks. Meren and Erandur were huddled in the corner of the ruin, as far into the shadows as possible, avoiding the sun.

Laria had left to find their camp several hours before, vanishing into the grey light and thick fog. She returned shortly, their packs and gear slung over the back of their horses. She ignored the nervous glanced of the troops, instead dropping Meren's pack onto his legs, while handing Erandur his belongings calmly.

"You hid the camp, right?" Erandur asked.

" _Removed all traces of it. That camp never existed._ " She said calmly, eyeing the five rebels  around their table.

"Do you have my--" Meren asked quietly, and Laria handed him a thin vial of blood before he could finish. He downed it quickly, while Erandur looked away.

"At least he'll stop shaking now. Meren, can't you find a cure for that?" Erandur asked.

"I've tried. Not sure why, but it doesn't work. I think it's a different strain." Meren told him.

"Sorry. I won't bring it up again." The Altmer shrugged.

"Hi! Ulfric wants to talk to you three, so, follow me?" Esil was at Laria's elbow, her head nearly touching the tall woman's arm. Laria's face showed her discomfort and disgust with the close proximity. Before Laria could do anything, which would probably involve a savage jerk upward with her arm, Esil bounded across the cruelly bright courtyard to the table.

"If I catch on fire, I've found that Frostbite is an excellent spell to use." Meren said quietly, pulling his hood low. Laria snorted as she crossed the weed-filled flagstones haughtily. The Altmer followed, slumped low, hissing slightly as sunlight hit him.

"We've got a fort up near Bruma that's blocking our troops getting in unseen." Galmar didn't waste any time with greetings or questions, but kept a suspicious eye on the three outsiders. "Esil's volunteered to head up there, but we need someone to go with her."

"Sneaky-type. Can't be seen." Esil said brightly.

" _Meren's good at sneaking. Send him._ " Laria told them dismissively.

"Fine. What do you have to say, elf?"

"That's… I can do that." Meren said quickly, avoiding his eyes.

 

As the sun began to set, lessening the burning of his skin, Meren followed Esil to where the horses were tied.

"Here. Her name's Sil." Esil said cheerfully as she mounted a paint horse, gesturing to a spotted mare who was eyeing Meren nervously. He nodded to the Dunmer, climbing onto the mare's back nervously. With a snap of the reins, Esil led them quickly from the ruined fort, hitting the road north.

 

Esil talked for hours along the road, shaking in her saddle with a big grin on her face. Meren ended up tuning her out, keeping an eye on their surroundings as the little blind elf couldn't. As they travelled, however, she slowly got quieter and quieter, until they both were riding in silence.

"Is Skyrim healthy, since the Empire won?" Her voice was contemplative, curious.

"I don't have anything to compare it to. Thalmor patrols are fairly normal, but I avoid them. Taxes are pretty much the same." Meren paused, breathing deeply. "People aren't fighting in the streets. Does that answer your question?"

"We drove the Thalmor completely out of Skyrim. I watched the last of them leave. Is Elenwen alive?"

"I think so."

"Meren, why are you scared of sunlight? Why did you hide in the shadows all day?" Meren swallowed nervously. The lack of sunlight was energising him, and he could feel his heart pumping faster than usual.

"The light hurts." He said, trying to work his words like Laria could, twisting his tongue and wrapping his fellows' minds into his own motives. However, he hadn't spent much of his life learning how to shamelessly manipulate people, so Esil wasn't deterred.

"Why?"

"My skin is sensitive to light." The girl did not know when to drop a subject, Meren realised.

"Are you a vampire?" But she was fairly intelligent, Meren decided.

"Yes." Meren gripped the reins, prepared to turn and attempt an escape. Esil didn't react at all.

"Okay." She said noncommittally, like the two were discussing last night's meal and the sleeping conditions, instead of the Altmer being a dangerous, deadly creature that drank others' blood. "Anything else?"

"I don't like long conversations." Meren told her quietly. Esil nodded, and for the next hour it was painfully obvious that she was trying to stay quiet, though when the small Dunmer would see something she found interesting she'd squeak and look at it, often twisting around entirely in the saddle.

 

It was well past midnight as they approached the fort. It was small but well-maintained fort. From where they tied the horses to a low-hanging tree the two could see the glimmer of golden armour.

"Twenty or thirty soldiers in there." Esil muttered. "That's what the scout said."

"How long have you been in the army?" Meren asked.

"About two years." Meren nodded, watching the fort. "Why?"

"Just curious. How good are you with that bow?"

"I can hit the soldier out front, if that's what you're hoping for."

"All right. How many entrances are there?"

"Just the one." Esil told him.

"And the walls are too high to jump from." Meren muttered, formulating a plan. His mind went immediately to Laria, and how she'd be able to create a plan immediately. She wouldn't tell anyone her plan, and she'd head out by herself, but she'd create one that worked.

"I can pick off some of the soldiers on the walls from here. You're a mage, right?" Esil dragged the Altmer out of his thoughts, and he glanced over at her.

"Yeah."

"You have heavy armour and a shield, that'll protect you. I'll give you some cover with my arrows, and you'll charge in there, throwing ice spikes or whatever you use." Esil seemed unusually pleased with herself over that plan. Meren had a feeling that she wasn't always capable of coherent ideas. The small Dunmer didn't pause, drawing back her bow and letting one of her Daedric arrows fly. The two heard a distinct thud as a body fell to the ground near the gate.

"That'll alert them. Start moving." Esil told him, and Meren stood up, spinning a fireball spell in his hand and raising his shield. He flung the spell, hitting the wooden gates and splitting the dead wood into a charred mess. The alarm went up immediately, and soldiers rushed to the walls, drawing arrows and spells. Meren looked up, and raised his shield as they began firing on him. 

However, black arrows shot from the darkness, hitting the Thalmor soldiers in the weak spots of their armour. Men fell from the walls, and Meren charged forward, throwing up a ward to deflect the hostile spells, bringing his shield around to meet a melee attack by a lanky elf with an axe. He brought his free hand around, channeling a lightning bolt, and hit the elf in the face with the spell. 

Without pausing he leveed a wall of flames across the stone steps from the wall, deflecting arrows as mages threw frost spells to quench the fire. Esil appeared from the darkness, ebony axe at her hip and black bow in hand, aiming arrows at the archers and swordsmen, leaving the mages for Meren. She ducked along the shadows of the wall, heading for the door into the fort. She slipped inside, leaving Meren to deal with the mages. She darted along the unlit wall, drawing her bow as she crossed the cracked stone bricks towards a large Altmer with a warhammer. She readied her arrow, aiming for the space in between the helmet and chest plate. 

With a soft breath, she let the arrow loose, and the woman spun around, drawing the warhammer and dodging the arrow. She snarled, charging the smaller elf, and Esil squeaked as she ducked out of the way. Esil heard the distinctive crash of the warhammer missing its target and instead smashing stone, and she drew her axe, gripping it tightly as she kept low to the ground, avoiding the broad elf's wild swings. 

The elf shouted in Aldmeri, bringing the hammer above her head and sending it crashing down into the flagstones. Esil swung her axe while the Altmer pulled the hammer from the ground, hitting her in the right thigh, the axe head wedging itself between her knee protection and her thigh armour. She screamed, bringing the hammer up towards Esil's chest, intending to crush her. Esil lunged backwards, ripping the axe out, and readying herself for the next attack. 

The wounded woman swung again, bracing her damaged leg and compensating for the change in balance. She howled as she lunged forward, balancing on her good leg and bringing the hammer down. Esil dodged too late, and she felt the armour on her calf bend and break. 

She took the chance she saw as the woman's momentum carried her forward, and she swung upwards with her axe, landing her strike in the woman's throat. With a loud scream, she fell backwards, dropping her weapon and landing on the cracked ground. As Esil pulled the axe out she gurgled, choking on her own blood and meeting Esil's eyes angrily. Esil looked away, moving past the dying woman silently and continuing on into the fort.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is there a way to add content warnings to specific chapters?


	5. Chapter 5

The two elves returned to the camp as the sun rose, plodding slowly on their horses. Esil worked healing magic on her leg as often as she could, and Meren slowly bandaged burn wounds on his arms. The two parted ways, each heading towards a bed where they could sleep for at least a few hours, although Esil had to give Ulfric her report.

"Fort's cleared, troops'll be able to pass through." Esil said hurriedly, her eyelids drooping as she spoke.

"Good. Go to bed, Esil." The Nord king told her. She nodded and stumbled away from their table towards where she'd laid out a bedroll next to Marcurio's. He was there, reading one of his books distractedly by lantern light. He looked up as she crawled onto the bedroll.

"I'm glad you're back. Is the fort--"

"Fort's ready, troops are ready, can I sleep?" She asked. Marcurio nodded.

"Of course, love."

"What book is that?"

"It's on the Akavir. A bit dense, but what can you expect?" Esil smiled, tugging on the sleeve of his robes. He laid down next to her and she snuggled up against his side, falling asleep quickly while he continued reading.

Meren laid down on his bedroll, wrapping himself up in the thick cloth until it became a tightly wound cocoon, but he didn't go to sleep, simply staring at the stone wall where Laria quietly worked on carving something.

"You need to sleep, Meren." Erandur was nearby, kneeling on the ground in prayer.

"I don't want to."

"Your body needs rest. Let it rest. If you have night terrors, I will wake you." Meren slowly closed his eyes while Laria glanced up at him from time to time, her dull, sickly grey eyes unreadable. Erandur stood slowly, leaning on the wall for support.

"I'm going to check on our horses." He told Laria, who didn't respond in any way. He sighed, walking past some newer soldiers and towards their horses, picking up several apples along the way.

 

"We've gotten responses from Hammerfell and Black Marsh." Galmar told Esil as she darted up to their table.

"So will they send troops?"

"Only if we open up the roads into Cyrodiil." The Nord warrior told her.

"And I'm assuming the southern part of Cyrodiil has a lot of Thalmor activity." Marcurio said.

"We need to send in scouts. But Esil is recognisable, and I don't trust that Laria woman."

"Which knocks out our skilled sneaks." Ondolemar leaned forward, looking at their map.

"Meren and Ondolemar aren't that recognisable. Meren's got a scar, but he can hide it."

"And the Thalmor consider me dead." The Altmer said, working to piece Esil's plan together.

"If we send them down to scout, that'll take care of one problem." Esil chirped.

"I think you're forgetting the part where we'd be sending two men down into what is apparently the heart of the Thalmor occupation here, with no way to retrieve them if things go south." Ulfric told her Esil stopped bouncing.

"So what should we do?"

"Reclaim the norther part of Cyrodiil, and send envoys to High Rock and Morrowind. Get the cities here on our side." The Nord king gestured to the northern part of the map, near Bruma and the roads from Skyrim.

"And then how do we get rid of the Thalmor in the south?" Ondolemar asked.

"We'll deal with that once we have High Rock and Morrowind's responses." Ulfric told him.

 

"Laria, Galmar Stone-Fist wants you to go with Ondolemar and remove another Thalmor-occupied fort." Laria snorted, pulling her bow onto her back and putting on her gauntlets. Her Dark Brotherhood armour rendered her nearly invisible in the growing darkness, and as she stood Erandur remembered just how terrifying she could be, even when she wasn't actively cultivating a fearsome reputation. 

She passed him silently, walking towards the center of the fort. Ondolemar stood up from the small fire, old Thalmor robes hanging off him loosely. She glanced at his eyes, sunken into his gaunt face. _He has been healthier._ She thought.

"Let's go." The Altmer didn't wait for her, walking towards the exit. The two took horses and rode west, increasing their pace as they hit the road near the Imperial City.

 

As they approached the fort the sun hung directly above them. Laria hissed softly from under her hood, glaring at the bright landscape.

"We should wait until dark. We'll have a better vantage point then--" Ondolemar began, trailing off as Laria dismounted her horse and drew her bow, notching an arrow and taking aim at something. With a light _twang_ she let the arrow fly, and almost immediately there was an explosion of noise from the fort. She grinned, drawing another arrow and moving towards the fort. Ondolemar sighed and summoned sparks, ready to fight.

It turned out to be fairly unnecessary for Laria to have a companion, as she tore through the troops with a calculated grace, her Daedric daggers spinning around in a dual flurry. Ondolemar picked off the stragglers as she ripped open the bulk of the fort, and finally stabbed  the fort commander in the face, letting him fall to the ground carelessly. She turned back to the Altmer, who grit his teeth.

"Fine. Let's just get back to camp." He said, and she silently brushed past him, sheathing her daggers.

 


	6. Chapter 6

"Never send me on any sort of mission with her again." Ondolemar hissed as he sat down heavily on a log.

"Why? Was she useless?" Esil asked curiously.

"No, she was efficient to a terrifying degree. I must have killed five people, she got rid of the rest."

"So what's the problem?" The little purple elf sat down next to him, leaning forward with anticipation.

"She didn't say a word the entire way. Not on the roads, not in battle. She just swung her daggers with that creepy stare of hers." He glanced over at where Laria sat, cleaning one of her daggers. Erandur was talking quietly to her.

"Meren's nice. You'll like him." Esil chirped, jumping off the log and bounding away.

 

"Would it kill you to act like a person?" Erandur hissed, trying to gain Laria's attention.

" _Probably._ " She didn't look up from her daggers. 

"If you keep this up, the more likely it is that someone's going to try and kill you!"

" _Like to see them try._ " She muttered.

"You are arrogant to a life-threatening degree! Does nothing get past that ego of yours? You are going to end up in a situation you can't talk your way out of, and no one is going to care enough about you to save you!" Laria didn't respond, sliding her daggers back into their sheaths and walking away from him. Erandur cursed softly and sat down, pulling his robes close around him.

 

Meren opened his eyes to Esil's beaming face five feet from him. She had climbed onto a collapsed pillar and was crouched, catlike, watching him.

"Hi!" She chirped, cocking her head when he didn't respond. "You alive?"

"No." Meren said simply, and pulled his bedroll over his face.

"Oh, ok. Goodbye." Esil hummed, stood, and bounded across the length of the pillar, leaping off it to land on their war table.

"Esil, would it kill you to not pull that acrobatic shit?" Ulfric said, frustrated.

"Probably. Do you need me to go kill something?"

"No. I need you to go with that mage husband of yours and scout along the road to Chorrol." He told her impatiently. She nodded and jumped off the table, running to the sleeping form of her husband.

"Morning!" She sang as she fell on him. Marcurio woke up immediately, swearing and in pain. He pushed the small elf off of him, and stood up slowly, while she bounced around him.

"Why did you wake me up?"

"We gotta patrol!" Esil said cheerfully. "We're heading for Chorrol to look for forts and Thalmor!" She beamed up at the Imperial, who only sighed, heading for the crumbling archway that served as the only entrance or exit to the ruined fort.

 

The yellow-robed mage and his armour-clad companion made for a strange sight on the road, as the few people they passed gave them odd side-long stares and confused frowns. Marcurio was fairly sure it was less their species and choices of clothing, and more the fact that Esil was running around him, charging into the woods, and racing up and down the road while he kept a steady pace. Also the part where Esil had not stopped talking since they left.

"Esil, how close are you to your mania?"

"Close, why?"

"Because the last thing we need is you not functioning while we're fighting a war."

"It worked out the last time that happened." Esil ran past him, following butterflies. Marcurio just shook his head, tuning out her chatter.

 

The Imperial ran into the short elf as she stopped in the middle of the road, not moving.

"What are you--" He began, but stopped himself. Her senses weren't the best, but she had a knack for sensing abnormalities. He looked around, but saw nothing.

"It's cold here."

"We're in the forest."

"We're not alone."

"This is a forest, there are animals." As he spoke, something stepped onto the road. As it looked at them, he realised it was a massive grey wolf.

"That's not an animal." Esil wasn't looking at it, she was reaching for her bow. The wolf slowly stepped into the middle of the road, staring them down. Its blue eyes seemed to glow in the shade, and seemed to analyse their every move.

"What is it?"

"I don't know." The wolf bared its teeth, readying itself to lunge, and then stopped, and simply bounded through the brush on the other side of the road.

"What was that? What just happened?" Marcurio asked, watching where it disappeared nervously.

"It ran off."

"Obviously. Do wolves do that?"

"No. Let's keep moving, I don't want it coming back." Esil broke into a run, charging down the empty road.


	7. Chapter 7

"So I found a wolf thing today." Esil chirped as the small group of Stormcloaks and renegades sat uncomfortably around the fire. Laria was doing something with what appeared to be a human heart, Meren was staring into space, Erandur was politely paying attention to the conversation, Marcurio was busy eating, Ulfric and Galmar were talking quietly and Ondolemar was writing things down. "It didn't seem like a wolf. More like a massive thing pretending to be a wolf." Laria stopped playing with the heart.

" _What did this wolf look like?_ " She hissed, her sharp teeth showing.

"Grey coat. Glowing blue eyes." Esil looked confused, but then continued, "So, we're in the middle of the road, Marcurio and I, and this massive big wolf thing walks right out into the middle of the road too. Like, the wolf thing is almost as big as me, and its eyes are glowing, so it just stares at us, growls a bit and then leaves. Ondolemar, you ever seen anything like that?" Esil asked.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. Maybe there's a new breed of wolves wandering around."

"Doubt it, but okay. Marcurio, can you read to me?" Marcurio nodded, finishing his stew and the two stood up and left.

"Why are you so interested in that wolf she mentioned?" Erandur muttered.

" _It's something I've never heard of. I was interested._ " She replied.

"You're lying and you know it."

" _Of course I am. I'm not telling you what I know._ " She said shortly, and stood up, leaving the fire and striding into the darkness. Erandur sighed and put his hand on Meren's shoulder.

"Meren, do you need to go to bed?" The priest asked, and when the Altmer nodded slightly he led the tall man to the corner where he'd shoved his bedroll, and watched Meren as he crawled inside. "I'm going to follow Laria. Try to get some sleep." As he turned to go he heard what sounded like a faint 'thank you', but he assumed it was just animals outside the old fort making noise. He walked out of the ruined walls to where Laria was standing, hunched in the moonlight, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

"Laria, you know you can trust me, right?"

" _Yes, but I have no interest in telling you what I know._ " The woman didn't move as Erandur stood beside her.

"I understand that. I'm just wondering, if Esil's right and that wolf isn't actually a wolf, and you know what it is-- that it's actually a person?"

" _Figure that out by yourself?_ "

"I've seen a lot in my time, Laria. I've learned a lot over the years. I'm old, but my brain hasn't turned to cheese. Unless one of those potions you brew caused it." There was a harsh laugh from Laria, and she straightened up. Erandur smiled at the movement, knowing that he'd managed to make her relax somewhat.

" _Why in Oblivion would I hurt my favourite priest?_ " She asked.

"Your favourite? You mean there's more than one?" He'd meant it as a joke, but she froze, her face shifting to a scowl. "I'm sorry, Laria, if I've offended you--"

" _It's not you, Erandur._ " This startled him. He was sure she'd explain just how much of this was his fault, and how he should have known better. She was deflecting the blame from him this time, and it scared him.

 

Esil was in her bedroll, pressed right up against Marcurio, listening to him read one of the history books to her.

"So some mages can change their appearance?" She asked sleepily.

"It appears so. Unless I read that part wrong." Marcurio replied, lying on top of his bedroll.

"I want to be able to change my appearance."

"Why?"

"So I'm not tiny. I have to climb on tables and people's shoulders to be seen."

"That's why you keep me around, isn't it? So I can do the yelling?"

"And you're decorative." Marcurio snorted as Esil climbed up his arm to plant a small kiss on his cheek and then slid back into her bedroll, closing her eyes.

"You should sleep too, you know. Soon." Marcurio nodded absently, but after a few more pages on the early Third Age, he went to sleep as well.

 

Laria didn't sleep. She watched the men on night watch keep an eye on those who were sleeping, and the forest where she swore she saw, for a brief moment, a massive wolf with glowing eyes. When it had disappeared, she bared her teeth, turning away from the forest and back to her books.

 

Meren was standing in a jail cell. Outside he could see Teldryn lying motionless on cold, blood-streaked flagstones. He was clutching the bars to the cell, screaming and pleading for Teldryn to wake up, but he didn't. He laid there, eyes open and glassy, two puncture wounds on his neck and an amulet of Mara in his hand. 

Across the room Meren could see Sophie, curled up and shaking. As he tried to call out to her his voice failed, and the room grew colder and colder, the sky outside turning purple and piles of bones filling up the corners of the room. 

Once more Meren screamed, shaking the iron bars as hard as he could, trying to break free to reach his daughter and his partner. 

He could hear the whispering of lost souls, and the mutterings of the keepers, the roaring of a dragon and the dripping of blood onto stone and as he looked down in defeat he realised that he'd been torn open and had been bleeding out the entire time. As blood began to fill the room like water he saw someone in the distance, outside the room. The figure was unrecognisable, until it rushed right up to the bars in the blink of an eye. It was a Dunmer, a young woman, and her blood-red eyes were cruel and mocking as she watched him in the cell, and as the blood rose to his neck she began laughing, with teeth too sharp for something natural. 

The laughter continued as Meren began to drown, rising in volume and pitch until it was a wild screech and--

 

Meren woke up, drenched in freezing sweat and shaking uncontrollably. It didn't seem like he'd made any noise, people weren't yelling at him, no one was standing over him. But there was a firm grip on his arm.

"Thank Mara, you're awake. I told you I'd wake you up if you had night terrors, remember?" He looked up at the old priest slowly, waiting for his face to shift into a howling demon. When it didn't, he nodded slowly.

"You know about this, don't you?" Meren said quietly. "I can hear you, when you wake up. You gasp for breath and then mutter prayers to Mara. And then if Laria's awake you talk to her."

"I… didn't realise you could hear me." Erandur sounded regretful. "But yes, I do have experience with night terrors."

"So now what? Do I pray to a god and then go back to sleep?"

"No, not unless you want to. I do that out of devotion to Mara, nothing more, nothing less."

"I don't have any gods I worship." Meren said quickly, spitting the words out and wishing he hadn't at the same time.

"That's not my concern. What is my concern, however, is figuring out how to help you cope with these night terrors."

"Why?"

"Because whether you like it or not, I feel somewhat responsible for your well-being right now. And don't think this is special treatment either-- the only reason Laria eats and sleeps is because I tell her to." This earned a small laugh from Meren. "Now, once you wake up, are you able to sleep again? Without the dreams?"

"Most of the time, yes."

"And do you feel like you can go back to sleep now?"

"Yes."

"Then unless you want to talk some more, I'd suggest you try and sleep."

"Aren't you going to ask me what I was seeing?"

"Not unless you volunteer it." Meren looked stunned, but he nodded quickly, and then closed his eyes once more, muttering another 'thank you' as Erandur slid back into his own bedroll.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laria and Esil clear an Ayleid dungeon for the Stormcloaks. Banter, questions and zombie-hunting ensue.

"So… you're an alchemist?" Esil was just taller than Laria's elbow, and was peering up at the silent Dunmer curiously. Laria didn't respond, still mixing things in an alembic. "I'm better at enchanting than alchemy. But you have really strong enchantments on your weapons and armour, right? So you're good at it, too. Did you make those? I found my stuff. Except these boots. I made these boots. Have you been to Solstheim? I went there once! Oh, what about Hammerfell? Or Valenwood? Or Blackmarsh? I've always wanted to go to those provinces. You must have travelled, right? I lived in Morrowind for most of my life, so I haven't seen much. I--"

" _Do you always talk this incessantly?_ " The frustrated hiss stopped her rambling.

"Yeah."

" _Then do so somewhere else._ " Esil slowly nodded and backed away, turning and running off towards Marcurio.

 

"We need the allegiance of the Counts." Ulfric said. "We can't win the war without the support of the province."

"And I will remind you, my King, that displays of military prowess are what gain support."

"Diplomacy is still an option, Galmar. Not all the counts support the Thalmor." Esil stood behind the two men as they argued, glancing at where Marcurio was lying on his stomach, face pressed into his satchel.

"What do you need me to do?" Esil asked. The two nords turned to her.

"Nothing." Was Galmar's abrupt answer. Esil nodded quickly and went over to her husband.

"Good morning." She said, standing over him. He looked up at her blearily. "You sick?"

"I have gotten less than five hours of sleep in the past two days. I got more rest in the fucking caves the Stormcloaks were hiding in than this fort." Esil sat down next to him.

"Why?"

"We're literally in the centre of an open fort. There's grass growing in my bed. We have no defences. At this rate a Thalmor patrol is going to get lost, show up here and slaughter us." He put his face back in his satchel. Esil laid down, snuggling into his side.

"It's okay. I'll kill everyone who tries to hurt you." She said.

 

"We need a new fort." Marcurio said, eyes unfocused as he leaned heavily on the war table. "This one is shit. It's supposed to be temporary, and no one's looking for a new one. Judging by the maps of the area there are a couple old Ayleid ruins around here. They're underground, easily defended and large enough to house a lot of troops."

"What sort of force would be needed to clear them of traps and whatever's wandering around?" Galmar asked.

"Me and Laria could go get rid of the stuff!" Esil chirped. "We can do that!" She looked over at where Laria was sitting, glaring at them.

"Fine. If you think it'll work." Galmar said.

 

Laria didn't respond to any of Esil's ramblings as they headed up towards the base of the ruins. The white marble pillars had a glowing effect in the moonlight, and Laria stopped for a moment to look at the architecture.

"Isn't this pretty? I've never been to Cyrodiil, I've been in Morrowind for forever, but I've always wanted to see other places. Like this one! Too bad Nordic barrows are just brown stone and nasty cobwebs." Esil said as she pushed open the heavy stone doors. Laria silently followed her down the dark steps. "Ooh, there's magic lights!" She said, poking at one of the glowing green stones in the wall. She crouched down, drawing her bow as something moved at the bottom of the steps. "What is that?" She whispered.

" _Zombie_." Came the raspy response, and then an arrow hit the corpse in the face. " _There will be a lich or wraith nearby._ " Esil nodded, shuffling forward.

The halls were long and tall, ornate arches and reliefs on the walls marking the way. Esil disarmed eight different pressure plates along one hallway, before unlocking a thick metal gate with a tree design.

"What were the Ayelids? I hear about them a lot, but I'm not really sure what they are."

" _The Heartland High Elves. A race of ancient Mer who ruled over Cyrodiil. They were a splinter group of the Aldmeri, hailing from the Summerset Isles. Driven out in the first Era by Alessia and her slave rebellion. The fall of the White-Gold Tower and their champion, Umaril the Unfeathered, ultimately ended their reign._ " Laria replied, casually shooting a spider in the face and taking a long drink from her water skin.

"Are you a scholar?" Esil asked.

" _Yes._ " Laria said.

"What do you study?" Esil asked, excited that the strange Dunmer was talking to her.

" _Yes._ "

"But do you focus more on history or dragons or combat or magic or dragons or what?" Esil pushed.

" _I focus on what needs focus._ " Laria told her dismissively.

"Do you know much about Daedric Princes?" She pressed.

" _I know enough._ "

"Do you worship any?"

" _Namira._ "

"She's the one with the cannibal cult right? There's mushrooms named after her." Esil said, following Laria as she silently stormed through the ruined halls. "Do you have to sacrifice things to her? Do you worship any other Daedra? Have you ever dealt with other Daedra? Have you ever met Sheogorath?" Laria stopped, putting an arrow in another zombie.

" _I do not sacrifice anything to Namira. I do not worship anyone else. I have dealt with all of them._ "

"Have you ever met Sheogorath? I feel really close to him sometimes, mainly because I go from manias to depressions pretty regularly. He's the reason madness exists right? Or is he caused by it?"

" _Chicken and egg._ " Laria muttered.

"Oh, the philosophical question. That makes sense. So have you dealt with him?"

" _I have._ "

"What's he like for you?"

" _An obnoxious little shit who loves the sound of his own voice._ " Laria didn't look at her as they descended a staircase towards a set of Welkynd stones.

"Oh." Esil said, and stopped talking. She looked up as they neared the end of the ruin, something in tattered crimson robes rising up when they approached.

" _Lich._ " Laria explained simply, and then shot it. The screech that came out of the lich was unnerving and seemed to shake the ground. Esil stood up as it spun towards them, flying with hands outstretched. Laria drew her daggers, spinning them forward and burying them deep in the lich's ribcage. The thing screamed, launching backward as Esil shot it with one of her arrows, hitting it in the eye. The two dunmer pushed it back, and as it reached the edge of the stone platform Esil put a final arrow in its neck. With a final shriek, it collapsed into dust.

"That was a lich? Where do they come from? Are there a lot of them? What happens if no one ever goes into the ruins they're in? Does it hurt to be one? How many have you killed?" Esil asked as Laria sifted through the lich's remains.

" _They are mages who corrupted themselves via a specific ritual. I do not know how many there are._ " She pocketed some of the dust, as well as the staff it had held.

"Have you killed any others?"

" _Yes._ " Came the curt reply. Laria stood up and sheathed her daggers.

"Oh." Esil said quietly, and then looked up at the chamber walls. "So now we can get troops and torches in here. This only has one exit so it'll either be completely defendable or a death trap."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh hey i'm still writing this it just takes forever  
> also i have an actual plot line for this it's just a mess  
> also the working title for this is literally 'youbrokeit', all one word, in scrivener. i hate everything.


End file.
